Confidential Decisions
by mandaree1
Summary: Operatives with confidential information are required to keep a special little pill with them to make sure that nothing they know will fall into enemy hands. Numbuh 362 has only used her's once.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename; Kids Next Door!**

 **Title: Confidential Decisions**

 **Summary: Operatives with confidential information are required to keep a special little pill with them to make sure that nothing they know will fall into enemy hands. Numbuh 362 has only used her's once.**

 **Setting: Pre-series, though after the flashback in Operation M.A.U.R.I.C.E.**

 **Warnings: Vague allusions to kidnapping, and comas, and some violence**

 **...**

The creation of the Sleepy Time pill is unknown, passed down in jumbled language from snitch to snitch to blurt out at inopportune times. Each and every operative has a different timeline, a different description, a different way to do it justice.

Numbuh 362 palms the one in her pocket. The scrape of snow and stones pummeling the sack she's being dragged in hurts and numbs her all at once. She doesn't make a sound. Her two teammates don't make a sound.

Spying is a dangerous business, even for a Kids Next Door operative. She's been instructed to have a Sleepy Time on her at all times, as the info she holds is seriously damaging, but she's never had to put serious thought in taking one before.

The wet is soaking into her uniform. If the stooge dragging them doesn't lift the bag soon, they may very well catch hypothermia. Perhaps that was the plan all along.

Something taps her hand. It's on purpose, meaningful; not just another involuntary kick to the face. Out of all of them, they are all aware she has the most confidential information. She's the only one there with a Sleepy Time.

Zero help her soul, how would Fanny take all of this? She knew the way to wake her up, right? She had to have told _somebody_ , right?

The sack- and her head- lurches against something metal. It's now or never.

Numbuh 362 slips the cylinder into her mouth and bites down. It tastes strong and chemical. That's the last thing she remembers.

* * *

Rachel drifts up from consciousness, down, then up again. The light hurts her eyes, and the beeping hurts her ears.

Beeping. This must be a med unit, then. The question being; KND, or adult?

She forces her eyes to open. The rough fabric of a hospital gown makes itself known on her skin. There's no blanket on her, but it's plenty warm in the room. The drapes are open, and she can see it's dark out. There's an IV in her arm, running to one of those wheely stands. The bag handing from it is imprinted with the familiar Kids Next Door stamp.

Thank Zero. She's at the arctic med base. Wait. No. The arctic is still sunny this time of the year. Wait squared. Sleepy Time pill. It could literally be any time ever, so long as her body has been kept up. Fear trickles down her spine. Rachel can't lift her body.

It's been exactly twenty minutes since she woke- she's kept count- when the doorknob jiggles and creaks. Rachel cranes her head as best she can to see who's at the door.

It's a Decommissioning officer.

Terror spoils her stomach. She wants to be sick. They can't be here to erase her mind, can they? They know how a Sleepy Time pill works. They knows her mind hasn't aged. The soldier takes off their helmet. A curtain of frizzy red hair falls from its' depths.

It's Fanny.

That can't be right. Fanny's a medic.

The red-head gingerly set the awkward helmet on the coat rack. Its' glowing red eye was pointed towards Rachel. Fanny shucked off some other armor, then checked the bag, then pulled a wooden chair over and sat down. She clapped her hands together, forearms resting on the plastic railing they put up around the sides of her bed. They didn't want her rolling off, presumably, though she isn't sure she can roll right now.

Is she praying? Rachel wonders. She knows both of her parents are religious (well, her mom, anyway. Rachel's dad never has time to spare when she comes over), but Fanny never struck her as the type to trust someone else to do a miracle when she could make one herself.

(She can't be praying to Numbuh Zero, can she? That's who operatives pray to when they think they're going to _die_.)

Rachel's throat feels like glue. She can't speak. Fanny opens her eyes, catches notice of her alert gaze, and immediately jumps to her feet.

"Yer awake!" She practically screeches, hurrying to salute. "Sorry fer the informalities, sir. I was outta line."

Rachel's eyes narrow. Fanny's been treating her like her boss ever since she got her reputation as a great spy. It's irritating.

"The doctors told me you were conscious, but I didn't think ye'd wake up while I was here," she finished sheepishly, sliding back into her seat. Her hands are on the gurney bar again. It's a habit. She's been doing this for a while. "Don't go pushin' yerself just yet. Yer practically a skeleton. Gotta heal before ya' mold yerself back inta' shape."

Rachel blinks at her. Fanny stands up.

"I'll give ya' some space. 'Sides, I'm only here on break. They'll murder me if I ain't ready for the mission." There's a brief hassle of getting her armor back on, cradling the helmet in her arm. "See ya' soon, sir. Do what Numbuh Band-aid tells ya', please. He's decent, fer a boy."

The door clicks shut behind. Feeling worn out by the effort it took just to lift her head, Rachel drops back on the pillow and closes her eyes. The hot, squished spot from all her resting doesn't dissuade her from sleeping more.

* * *

It's been two weeks since she woke, but that number is unquantifiable, as Rachel doesn't know when she woke. It could be two weeks from a Tuesday, or two weeks from a Friday, or an entirely new month. There are no calendars or clocks- just her silent mind games. Thank goodness she's great at math.

Fanny comes back to her room only then, and she looks exhausted. Rachel doesn't think she's slept in a bed since she's left, but she plunks her helmet down and quietly moves closer nonetheless.

"Yer sittin' up. Did the doctor say that was alright?"

Rachel clears her throat. Her voice is soft and gritty. "What do you think?" It wasn't like her to take another operative's word on medicine over her own. Surely she hadn't forgotten basic medic work since Rachel's been out, has she?

Fanny bit her lip, shrugged. "Never had a case like this."

"But you've studied Sleepy Times pills before. You told me that. Said they were fascinating."

"Ah, hush. I ain't supposed to know nothin' 'bout that. S'confidential."

"Give me a play-by-play?"

Fanny paused, taking up her wooden chair again. She smelled like burnt toast and body order.

"I dunno what they're made of. Gettin' that out of the way now."

"I don't expect you to."

"Good." She wrung her fingers thoughtfully. "The medicine in the Sleepy Time pill induces a coma. Dunno how. You can only be woken by yer least favorite food. I knew you hated super sweet things, so we worked from there. Only took a day or so."

"Why?"

"Why the food thing? Zero if I know. 'Specially how it knows yer least favorite."

"No, I mean- why a coma? Why not a sleeping pill?"

"Ya' can wake up from sleep. Ya' can die from too high of a dose of sleepin' pills." Fanny reminded her gruffly. "Comas only hurt if ya' don't got nobody to watch over you."

"I didn't-"

"Yer little squad did wonders, keeping you from decomposing. Give 'em some credit for that, at least."

Rachel shuddered. _Decomposing_. That's a word you save for a dead body. "What else?"

"That's about it, sir. Yer in a coma. Dead weight. I assume there was somethin' in there fer nutrition, since yer reboundin' so fast, but otherwise it's just a coma pill."

" _Just_ a coma pill."

"Sorry. Bad wording."

Rachel weaved her fingers through the thin blanket across her legs. "So, easy stuff out of the way- time for the hard question; how long have I been out?"

Fanny examined her a moment. "The doc says-"

"Why are you trusting a doctor's word over your own?" She asked. "You were a medic. You worked in the _chicken pox epidemic_. Numbuh Band-aid has nothing on you."

Fanny flinches at 'chicken pox.' "Alright, but ya' gotta answer one question first."

"Shoot."

"Will you feel better knowin', or worse?"

"Both. It'd bring me peace of mind, but I've still lost that time. Lay it on me."

Fanny sighs, hunching over the gurney. "Been about three months, sir. We found ya' 'bout two or three days 'fore you woke up."

* * *

She swings by a day later with some books. They're the big, bulky kind that contain no pictures. That alone tells Rachel the wait she's expected to have. She pretends to not notice.

"I've been so _bored_ ," she admits, setting the books on the desk next to her. "You can only count seconds for so long before you want to pull your hair out."

"You count seconds even when you're not bored. It's a habit."

"I _know_."

Fanny doesn't stink this time around. Her uniform is freshly pressed, armor shiny and undented. Rachel thinks she sees a stripe on the shoulder- is that an award or fashion choice? The way the Decommissioning unit works is strange to her.

Rachel must be staring, because the girl blushes and covers it. "It's sharpie."

"Does it mean anything?"

"Jus' that the Head thinks I'm good at what I do. Lot's of officers have 'em."

They fall silent. Fanny takes one of the books and flips to the table of contents.

"So," Rachel prompts. "Decommissioning?"

Fanny flips the book shut and set it aside. "Yup."

"Why? You were a great medic."

She scoffed. "I hated it. Things jus' didn't work out like I'd hoped they would."

"I can understand that, I guess." Rachel bumped her hand. "But why something so drastic? Numbuh 274 could've found you a Sectuh if you really wanted one."

"Ya' know me, sir." She returned feebly. "I don't get along well with others."

Fair enough. It was one of the few things Rachel and Fanny had in common; they weren't interested in having a close-knit team to watch over them, a Sectuh to have to take care of. They did their best work solo, or in impersonal team-ups that by no means hinted at friendship or companionship.

"I was plannin' on surprising you, actually. My last day of boot camp was supposed to be 'round when you came back from yer mission."

"You went back to boot camp?"

"Only fer a few weeks. Patton says hi, by the way. Got a job shadowin' that jerk of an instructor. 'Bout kicked that boy in the teeth."

"That's not a good thing, Fanny."

"Eh. S'wot got the Decommissionin' Squad interested in me. Pulled me aside one day, askin' 'bout my temper. They gave me a placement offer right 'fore you left."

Rachel doesn't respond to that, but it's worrying all the same. She's not sure she likes the new, brutal edge her friend was being pushed to keep. Even soldiers needed _some_ sympathy, didn't they?

* * *

Fanny slips in and out of the hospital room as the next few weeks go by. At first she looks more and more tired, but slowly her shoulders tighten and her brow becomes a bit more stern. The pride is obvious, but she still refers to Rachel as sir, even as she slips a new IV into her arm and she complains.

"What happened? While I was out, I mean."

"Not much, sir. Scouring the arctic fer you."

"Nothing too apocalyptic, then?"

"Aye."

"Good. I'm glad." She sighed. "Why can't I start the training process yet? I feel so weak."

"Yer jus' like a normal kid, only really thin."

"I've never _been_ a normal kid. What's their reasoning again?"

"Yer legs, sir. Ain't got no muscle to 'em right now."

"And we're going to work on that _when_?"

"Dunno. I don't call the shots."

"Ulgh. I wish you did." Rachel admitted, putting her head in her hands. They've added a wall clock to keep her company, but the ticking is infuriating. She kept better time by herself. "I miss seeing you in the med ward."

Fanny snorts at that. "All due respect, I've been here pretty much every day."

"I mean as a medic. You looked cute in a white cap."

"Thanks."

"What would you have done if the Decommissioning team hadn't asked you to join? Would you have stayed on?"

The girl cocked her head to the side, frowning thoughtfully. "I don't think so, no. Woulda jus' asked fer someplace _really_ remote. I hear the ocean's pretty hardcore."

"You're a terrible swimmer."

"I swim jus' fine. S'jus' not graceful."

"Perhaps it's best they picked you, then. I would've missed you around Moonbase." Rachel reached out to touch her arm. "Do you like your job?"

Fanny stiffens. Hesitates. "It's necessary work."

"But do you regret joining up?"

"No." She shook her head. "Somebody's gotta do it."

"That sounds like displeasure."

"It _sounds_ like exhaustion. Decommissioning is a whole 'nother world of violence." Fanny stretched her arm out in demonstration, working out her sore muscles. Her voice dripped with satisfaction.

"Fanny?"

"Yup?"

"If I asked you for info that was confidential, information that I knew you _know_ , would you tell me anyway?"

Her green eyes skittered around the room. Fanny worried her lip between her teeth. Finally, she said; "There's no cameras in the room."

"I wouldn't have asked you if I thought there were."

"You're askin' me ta' betray our cause."

"I'm asking you where your main loyalty lies; me, or the Kids Next Door?"

"Don't _ask_ me that."

"Right. Sorry."

"Spit it out quick, 'fore I change my mind."

Rachel released the breath she was holding. "Where are they?"

"Which they?"

"My teammates. Why won't anybody acknowledge them? Why haven't they contacted me?"

"Oh." She said. "Oh, Rachel. Sir. You were the lucky one."

Her heart stuttered.

"He... they knew you were important, sir. They knew the others knew how to wake ya'. Kept you all in the same basement, barely feedin' 'em. They kept yer body movin' and their lips tight shut."

"You won't say the teenager's name, either."

"It's a cover-up. You can figure that out."

"Go on."

"It was too late when we found you all. They'd been through too much. Asked fer an early retirement. One's in a wheelchair. I think the other lost the ability to use her hand. Froze."

"You... were _there_?"

Fanny examined her. Her eyes were chips of ice. "You didn't see yerself, sir. How bad you looked; limp and cold. Thought you were dead."

"I'm sorry, Fanny."

"I've said too much." She cupped a hand over her mouth and stood up. "Think I'm gonna be sick."

Rachel watched her friend- Zero help her, she's not even ten- stumble towards the door, presumably to find something to throw up in. She's refused to bring her helmet inside after her first scare. "Fanny?"

She turned. "Wha?"

"Did you interrogate the teenager?"

Her shoulders slumped. Fanny's face grew almost perfectly blank, hand falling to her side.

"We can't."

She doesn't come back until Rachel's relearning how to walk.

* * *

Fanny's hands are warm on her stomach and the small of her back, steadying Rachel as she holds onto the walking bars for support after a tumble. "Ya'll right?"

"My pride is bruised, but otherwise yes." Rachel stood still as Fanny pulled her hands away. "And- to think- I was one of the greatest spies in the Kids Next Door."

"Ya' still are. Ya' jus' need time."

"Time isn't exactly something Kids Next Door operatives _have_."

"Ya' do fer now. Focus on that."

Rachel took a few more steps with a sardonic giggle. "Hey, Fanny?"

"Aye?"

"Since you're an officer now, are you going to have to erase my memories?"

There was a light intake of breath, followed by; "E'ery operative gets their mind wiped on their thirteenth birthday. No exceptions."

"I know that. I meant; will you be the one with the honors?"

"That depends. Ya plan on runnin' out on me?"

"Nah. Not my style to run."

"Then no. That'll be the Head's job."

"That's why I'm asking."

Fanny turned to her, mouth falling. "Who told you?"

"One of the nurses." She glared at the girl. "Thanks for _not_ telling me, by the way."

The girl shuffled, torn between moving away and staying close as her friend practiced. She clenched her fists.

"It's an honor." She says finally.

"No offense, but aren't you a bit _young_ for that? You've only been an officer for a few months."

"I'm jus' that good, sir." Fanny set a firm hand on her shoulder. "Alright, therapy time is over. Let's get you to bed."

* * *

"Is is weird that I'm envious of you?"

Fanny, half-dozing in her chair, perks up at that. She's out of her armor- falling on that would've hurt- but the sharpie mark is still there, unfaded even by time. The redhead had been keeping it up. "Envious?"

"You're flying up the ranks- heck, they're ready to make you the next _Head_ ," Rachel intoned, staring resolutely at the ceiling. "And I'm stuck here."

"Don't be like that, sir." She pleaded. "Ye've done more fer the Kids Next Door than I ever will."

"I just feel so silly." She flicked some water out of her eyes with a frantic hand. "I should be out there, doing my job. Instead, I'm laying around a med ward."

"Ya' can't walk _that_ good, Rachel. Give 'er a little while longer."

"Blech."

"Sir, please."

"Fine. I'm still a little envious of you."

Fanny leaned over the gurney, chin on her arms. "Sir, I gotta tell ya' somethin'."

"Okay."

"An' I don't wanna be interrupted when I tell you."

"Okay. I won't promise anything, but okay."

The girl sighed. She adjusted her sleeve, then bent down to re-tie her bootlace. Time ticked on, tensely quiet.

"Fanny?" Rachel asked.

She propped herself back up. Fanny wouldn't look at her. "I'm the reason we can't question that boy."

"What?"

"I thought I asked you not to talk."

"You did." She agreed. "When you said you couldn't, I was under the assumption he'd escaped."

"No, sir. I'm sorry fer givin' you that assumption."

"What really happened, then?"

Fanny shrugged. "You didn't see yourself, sir. You were so _still._ I know you thought I was bein' overdramatic when I said I thought ye were dead, but I _wasn't_." Her breathing grew a bit erratic, but she didn't shed a single tear. "And then there's this- this _boy_. This maggot. This ugly scum of the Earth. And he just- he _smiled_ , sir. He was proud of himself fer what he did to you. Like it was some sorta game he'd won." She swallowed. "I blasted 'im. More'n once. I dunno how many times I hit him with it- didn't keep track. I jus' kept going."

"Nobody tried to stop you?"

Something between a grunt and a snort bubbled past her lips. "Stop me? They cheered me on."

Rachel felt bile rise in her throat.

"There's nothing left of 'im now. No memories of the KND- or anything else, fer that matter. Not even his name. I was one blast away from makin' him forget how to move. We faked a car wreck." Fanny bent her head. "I'm sorry, sir. I took away your chance at justice."

"I'm not worried about justice. I'm worried about that sharpie on your arm." The girl slowly sat up. "That's why you got it, isn't it?"

Fanny didn't respond.

"Is _this_ why you're getting your promotion?"

She wet her lips before responding. "The Head likes me. Numbuh 274 likes me as well- at least enough to approve of me."

"Don't you find that shifty?"

"No? Not really."

"Why did you accept if you feel so bad?"

Fanny regarded her curiously. She looked nothing like the operative Rachel once knew. "I feel bad that you couldn't get comeuppance, sir. Not because of what I did. That was just business."

* * *

Rachel is up and moving by the time Fanny gets her promotion ceremony, but she feigns tiredness anyway. Numbuh Band-aid hands over a letter Fanny supposedly left her, but she crumples it up and tosses it in the trash can.

The girl finally comes to see her when Rachel is practicing her basic swing and kick. The girl notices her shiny new helmet with a curl of the lip, but Fanny takes it off the moment the door closes; setting it on a table, leaning against a wall, arms crossed.

Rachel stops her barrage on the training bag. Her light outfit is sticky with sweat, and she could really go for a glass of water right now.

"I didn't go on purpose," she tells her.

"I know, sir," Fanny replies. "Never thought otherwise."

"Still calling me sir? You're higher-ranking than me, now."

"Yer still the best spy in the KND." She waved the notion away. "'Sides, it's only a matter of time 'fore you rise up."

Rachel tries to imagine it; being a high-ranking operative. The idea is an appealing one. "Well, Numbuh 274 _is_ getting on in years."

"Can't think of a better operative to take his place." Fanny nods encouragingly. "Ye'll make a great Soopreme Leaduh, sir."

"So. Blunt question."

"Shoot."

"Who Decommissions you?"

"My team."

"That group you carry in your pocket?"

"Aye."

"Can they even _do_ that?"

"'Course they can. Code states they're allowed to keep me from runnin' at any cost to my body or social life."

"So they could beat you into a hospital and it'd be _legal_?"

"Technically, yes."

"That's disturbing."

"They won't actually do that. They respect me too much fer that."

"I understand that. It's the _idea_ of it that bothers me." Rachel shook off a bad case of the willies. "Why did you even choose to go into something like this?"

"I told ya'."

"I want the truth."

"Ah." Fanny grunts. "Fair enough. You saw those folks with chicken pox, didn't you?"

"Of course. I was there when Numbuh 9 got the blaster."

"I know ye were. But that was a two second affair, really. Didja ever go into the _ward_ during all that?"

"No. Operatives weren't allowed in."

Fanny nods a bit, seeming to sink into the wall. "There were hundreds, sir. Covered in these disgustin' little patches. I'd had my shots, so I wasn't susceptible, but plenty of other medics caught it. Only a handful of us were healthy, and it was all we could do to wait it out. Operatives came bustin' in, demanding their teammates. They couldn't understand that we _couldn't_ fix 'em. They'd come in a week or so later with broken arms and these smug looks on their faces, like 'ya' see, you little girl?' Even Numbuh 100 expected some sorta miracle, but we _didn't have any to give._ It was... it was a big mess all the way 'round, sir."

"You never told me it was that bad."

"Wasn't any point in tellin' you."

"I'm sorry, Fanny."

"Don't be. Blame those stinkin' teenagers." The new Head took in a deep breath, then released it. "The whole thing taught me what I should've known; I don't do well in an environment where, sometimes, all you can do is hope. I need it to be so that there's always somethin' else I can choose."

"Violence or more violence?"

"I prefer violence to hope, sir. I make more miracles that way."

Rachel let out a gusty sigh. Something told her she'd never fully understand the girl's reasoning for anything she did. "If we're being honest here, I don't want to be a spy anymore. I never want to see another Sleepy Time in my life."

"Oh! That reminds me." She dug through her pocket to pull out a small circular pill. "I got one of me own now."

She recoiled, then hesitantly leaned closer to examine it. "That doesn't look like the kind I carried."

"That's 'cause it's not." She informed her casually. "This is a Night Night pill."

"What's the difference?"

"There's no failsafe."

Rachel's hand snapped back to her chest. "You mean, if you take that..."

"I won't wake up." She confirmed.

"That's... Zero, Fanny, why would they _give_ you that? Why would they even _create_ it?"

"I know how to build and use a Decommissioning chamber. That's too dangerous to fall into the wrong hands."

"You're _okay_ with this?"

"Doesn't matter. Orders are from Numbuh 274 himself."

Rachel felt thankful for her training, however rusty. Her voice and face only slightly shifted, when really all she wanted was the rip the pill out of the girl's hands and chuck it down a drain. "I hate this. It should be banned."

"Told ya', sir." Fanny said, pocketing the new medication. "If something bothers you, choose to change it."

"How?"

"S'like you said. Numbuh 274 is gettin' on."

"Will you be the one to-"

"Yes."

"You're younger than me, Fanny. If I became Soopreme Leaduh, you'd have to erase me."

"We'll cross that bridge if we come to it." Fanny primly shrugged. "Don't tell me yer only reason not to try is because yer scared of me now?"

"I'm not scared of you."

"I saw the way you looked a me ol' helmet. It's _okay,_ Rachel. I'm not jus' a little medic anymore. I'm the Head of _Decommissioning_. The main _executioner_."

"You say that with such pride."

"Well, I _am_ proud. I worked hard to get where I'm at." A beat of awkward silence passed. "If the way things are run bother you, choose to change them. Don't let anything hold you back."

"Don't _you_ want things to change?"

"The way I see it, if it works well enough, don't hit it with a wrench. But if you think it can be run better, by all means, get involved."

"I may just," Rachel said. "Thank you, Numbuh 86. And congratulations."

Fanny jokingly saluted and picked up her helm. "Gotta mission in an hour. See you in a few days or so."

"See you."

The girl turns and confidently pulls open the door, stepping into the hallway.

Rachel can't help herself. "Fanny?"

She glanced back. "Aye?"

"That pill isn't actually for _you_ , is it?" She asked quietly. "It's for me. Numbuh 274 asked you to deliver it personally."

Fanny didn't immediately reply, features slack. She continued walking, calling over her shoulder.

"S'like I said, Rachel. There's always a choice."

 **Author's Note: I really like building onto Rachel and Fanny's lore, and I really liked this headcanon I came up with. Since the KND has knockoff spy stuff of all sorts, why not a 'safer' cyanide pill?**

 **Rachel: where's your loyalty?**  
 **Fanny: don't ask me that it's too complicated**  
 **Also Fanny: I'mma just take this pill off yer hands. Forever.**

 **-Mandaree1**


End file.
